


You Had Me At Jell-O

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [109]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Cooking, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Humor, If you can call it cooking, M/M, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Edge trusts Stretch with so many things. His heart, his soul, his very life. Even his kitchen...but that might be about to change.
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), Spicyhoney, Underfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus
Series: by any other name [109]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1039829
Comments: 25
Kudos: 70





	You Had Me At Jell-O

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for all of you still reading! I know updates have been erratic and I haven't been as good at replying to comments as I could be, but please know I treasure each and every one. I still love these boys and I love playing in their world. 
> 
> I've been missing some humor with these boys lately, please, enjoy.

* * *

As much as Stretch still liked to joke about the quality of his cooking (some jokes never end and old comedians never die, they just can’t stand up anymore), there really wasn’t any truth to it these days. He’d truly been practicing, events of culinary destruction were behind him, and if his attempts ended at the slightly overdone end of the spectrum more often than not, they had at least firmly moved out of ‘burnt to charcoal’ territory. Reasonably edible, that was a goal that many home cooks aspired to and Stretch could take his place amongst their ranks. 

In any case, it made it less unusual for Stretch to spend time in the kitchen and Edge didn’t think much of it that afternoon as he sat at his desk in the living room and worked through a little paperwork. Not until he went for another cup of coffee, his mind absently split between the newest overseas trade negotiations and delicious, liquid caffeination.

Both thoughts came to a screeching halt right along with Edge as he froze two steps inside the kitchen, hardly noticing the door swinging shut behind him. One socket twitched as he stared at the unspeakable horror that dared to take up space on his kitchen counter. 

Gelatin at least he recognized. Not a favorite of his, but it was often served as a treat down at the Y. This was not like the little plastic cups with their foil lids that the Human children gobbled down. This mold was huge and round, a geometric mountain of quivering goo. The outer ring horrifically blood-red and there were…things…encased within it, unidentifiable objects entombed in a wiggly sarcophagus. Nestled into the center of the ring was a curdled white gunk that threatened to ooze from its confinement and who knew what destruction it might wreak if it escaped from its gelatinous prison.

It sat there, alone, as it glistened threateningly in the overhead lights. 

“hey, babe!” Came from the other side of the kitchen as Stretch stood up from where he’d been looking in the refrigerator, slamming the door shut with a clatter of the jars and bottles within. “i see you’ve met. say hello to my little friend.”

Edge did not take his gaze away from the shimmery intruder to his once-safe kitchen as he said, slowly, “Stretch, I’m aware that you have a wide variety of friends and acquaintances from all walks of life. This is your home and you’re allowed to have guests over. But I’m afraid I must insist that none of them bring infectious diseases with them, your expertise is in physics, not viral disorders.”

“heh, yeah, but i’ve got experience in going viral, which this already is!” Stretch said gleefully. He walked over to the counter right by where the awful thing sat. Edge resisted the urge to pull him to safety. “this, my heart, is a molded gazpacho sour cream salad.”

“That is not a salad,” Edge said, decisively. On that point, he was certain. “It has none of the shape, form, or accoutrements of a salad. If it ever were a salad, it lost the right to the title after its years-long imprisonment in the back of Bela Lugosi’s pantry.”

“nope, it is definitely a salad, per my good pal the dictionary,” Stretch held up his phone with a waggle, “i checked, merriam and webster are on my side. now,” He took a pinch from the little bowl he’d gotten from the fridge, tossing a sprinkle of what Edge recognized as chopped parsley over the nightmarish concoction. So far it was the only thing in the entire dish he recognized, and he wasn’t sure if that lessened his horror or not. “my twitter groupies are waiting patiently, and not so patiently, for your opinion. whatcha got for me, babe.”

“My opinion?” Edge asked, disbelieving, “My opinion is that you discovered a plague-riddled moldsmal and brought it home for vivisection, which is incredible cruel to their family, I expect better from you.”

Stretch gave him a look of mock outrage, silent laughter shining in his eye lights. “i’ll have you know this is an actual recipe from an actual book that YOU happen to own, ‘the best served cold’ cookbook, as a matter of fact.” He slouched down to lean on the counter, dangerously close to the so-called salad as he propped his chin on one hand. “so what do you think of that?”

“I think that the publisher needs to fire their health standards committee and I need to vet my cookbooks more carefully before they can fall into your treacherous hands.”

“too late now, my hands have been alllll over it,” Stretch leered. He was nearly shaking with barely stifled laughter. “c’mon, babe! everyone is waiting.”

“Waiting?” Edge demanded, “For what, a catastrophic meltdown because if that’s happening, we need to get to a minimum safe distance immediately.”

“you only need to take a bite. one little bite.” That placating tone very nearly masked the words and understanding came with a horror all its own.

“You’re actually expecting me to taste this? Hold on.” Edge pulled out his phone and made a show of calling out, and it was a show, because they both already knew he was going to taste it. Of course he was; he’d do it with a sigh and probably plenty of regret, but he would. A single bite of some godawful presumed salad was a small price to pay for Stretch’s delight. 

Stretch only sighed, shaking his head with a grin, “okay, i’ll bite, who are you calling.” 

“Our life insurance company, it might be best for you if I raise the current payout.”

“seriously, i should’ve recorded this from the start, no one could deny your sense of humor anymore after watching this, funny guy.” Stretch’s grin faded, switching over to what Edge mentally dubbed his wheedling face, all wide sockets and pleading eye lights. “just one, babe, a single, solitary, teensy weensy bite, do it for—"

“Don’t you dare say this is for science,” Edge warned. “There is nothing remotely scientific about murder jello, not to mention that it goes against our strict policy of no science in the kitchen!”

“—for me,” Stretch amended smoothly. He raised one brow bone and held out a fork, “unless you’re scared.”

“If you’re trying to appeal to my pride, I’ll have you know that anyone who isn’t afraid of that is a fool or a liar.” But Edge snatched the fork away. One bite, that was all. 

One.

He poked it gingerly with the fork tines and shuddered as it jiggled moistly. The petrified contents within pressed to the sides as it moved, like unholy demons trying to escape from their viscous hell. Surely Edge was not a minority in his belief that savory foods should not wobble with such gleeful irreverence. The smell was reminiscent of spoiled dog food mixed with unforgiveable sins, tied together with a hint of ketchup, and with a hasty gesture and a silent prayer, Edge tore free a small bite with his fork and ate it.

As it turned out, the only thing worse than smelling it was eating it. Edge did not gag, he sat perfectly still, focused on keeping that single bite down since the only thing worse than tasting it once would be a second, slightly used time.

“well?” Stretch prodded, phone at the ready, his thumbs hovering, preparing to transmit the verdict to the entirety of his twitter harem who were surely waiting with bated, and baited, breath. “how is it?”

Edge said nothing. He careful set the fork aside and picked up the tray, carrying it directly outside to dump it, tray and all, into the trash can, and firmly put the lid on top it lest it attempt to crawl back out from the dark plastic depths to which it had been banished.

Stretch followed him out, no longer bothering to stifle his snickers, “that good, huh?”

“I think the best word I can manage considering your character limit would be ‘memorable’,” Edge told him dryly. “If you ever attempt to murder me again, I’d appreciate a more straightforward approach. A simple knife in the back will do, there’s no need to create something that might unleash havoc on the entire town. We’ll be lucky if the trash collectors don’t quit in protest rather than empty it.”

“knew i could count on you for an honest review,” Stretch grinned. He gave the trash can a nudge with the toe of his untied sneaker, perhaps to verify that vile thing was staying down. But what he said next froze Edge down to his marrow. “welp, that’s a good start for my new weekly food review.”

“Weekly?” Edge sputtered. Apparently there was a limit to what he would do to make his husband happy and on this day, they’d finally found it, trapped within a gelatinous mass that had a taste reminiscent of a shrimp cocktail left at a nuclear testing site. “My wedding vows were for in sickness and health, I made no promises about helping you achieve internet points!”

“nah, relax, babe,” Stretch slung both arms around Edge’s shoulders and leaned in for a soft kiss, and that he didn’t immediately lurch away from the remnants that surely lingered on his breath was enough for Edge to permanently doubt his sense of taste. No wonder he didn’t like risotto. “i’m gonna have new guests every week. lotsa monsters and humans would love to help out, i just figured you’d be a good starter package.”

“Alternating people will increase your survival rates, I’m sure.” But he gave Stretch a light kiss of his own, lingering briefly, then leaning away to say sternly, “Going forward, I’d appreciate advanced warning if you’re going to use my kitchen for evil.”

“deal. c’mon, i made some actual lunch, too, it’s in the oven.” He tugged Edge along and he followed, with slightly less confidence than he might have had only ten minutes earlier, “plus, i got a great shot of your boots walking out to the trash can. your shoes are more internet famous than i am, babe.”

“Wonderful,” Edge could only sigh, “I’m glad that both my footwear and my nausea could be of service.” This was what he’d set himself up for when he’d married Stretch, a lifetimes’ worth of it, richer, poorer, sickness and health, in gelatin molds and the slightly overcooked tuna melts freshly pulled from the oven. All of it, for the rest of his life.

He couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

-finis-

**Author's Note:**

> I'd share a picture of the 'salad', but I love you all too much for that. 😂


End file.
